Fiction Books

THE first thing which attracted my attention to the man was the shock of white hair above the lean young face. But for this, I should not have looked twice at him: long, spare, and stooping, a shabby figure, he crouched over a cup of coffee in a corner of the dingy restaurant, at fretful enmity with the world; typical, I should have said, of the furtive London nondescript. But that white hair startled... more...

1. Jesus chako kopa Saghalie, (Repeat twice.) Jesus hias kloshe. Jesus wawa kopa tillikums, (Repeat twice.) Jesus hias kloshe. 2. Jesus wawa wake kliminiwhit, Jesus hias kloshe. Jesus wawa wake kapswalla. Jesus hias kloshe. 3. Kopa nika Jesus mimaloose, Jesus hias kloshe. Jesus klatawa kopa Saghalie, Jesus hias kloshe. 4. Alta Jesus mitlite kopa Saghalie, Jesus hias kloshe. Yaka Jesus tikegh nika... more...

PREFACE. Having formerly occupied my thoughts on the subject of promoting the knowledge and practice of religion among the Negroes in the West Indies, I was naturally led to inquire into the means, which had been successfully adopted in the catholic islands. I traced them to the enthusiastic labours of the clergy in general, particularly the Jesuits. The conduct of the fathers of that society in South... more...

THE POT OF GOLD. The Flower family lived in a little house in a broad grassy meadow, which sloped a few rods from their front door down to a gentle, silvery river. Right across the river rose a lovely dark green mountain, and when there was a rainbow, as there frequently was, nothing could have looked more enchanting than it did rising from the opposite bank of the stream with the wet, shadowy mountain... more...

Mrs. Eustace Greyne (pronounced Green) wrinkled her forehead—that noble, that startling forehead which had been written about in the newspapers of two hemispheres—laid down her American Squeezer pen, and sighed. It was an autumn day, nipping and melancholy, full of the rustle of dying leaves and the faint sound of muffin bells, and Belgrave Square looked sad even to the great female novelist who... more...

"I want you to put me in prison!" the big, hairy man said in a trembling voice. He was addressing his request to a thin woman sitting behind a desk that seemed much too big for her. The plaque on the desk said: LT. PHOEBE HARRISTERRAN REHABILITATION SERVICE Lieutenant Harris glanced at the man before her for only a moment before she returned her eyes to the dossier on the desk; but long enough... more...

THE THIRD STRING Love? said the night-watchman, as he watched in an abstracted fashion the efforts of a skipper to reach a brother skipper on a passing barge with a boathook. Don't talk to me about love, because I've suffered enough through it. There ought to be teetotalers for love the same as wot there is for drink, and they ought to wear a piece o' ribbon to show it, the same as the... more...

id the Pilot slowed the ship almost to a standstill, and peered anxiously at the green planet below. Even without instruments, there was no mistaking it. Third from its sun, it was the only planet in this system capable of sustaining life. Peacefully it swam beneath its gauze of clouds. It looked very innocent. And yet, twenty previous Grom expeditions had set out to prepare this planet for... more...

ACT I SCENE I Enter Count Lodovico, Antonelli, and Gasparo Lodo. Banish'd! Ant. It griev'd me much to hear the sentence. Lodo. Ha, ha, O Democritus, thy gods  That govern the whole world! courtly reward  And punishment. Fortune 's a right whore:  If she give aught, she deals it in small parcels,  That she may take away all at one swoop.  This 'tis to have great enemies!... more...

CHAPTER I. "Be slow to offend—swift to revenge!" Inscription on a dagger of Daghestán. It was Djoumá. Not far from Bouináki, a considerable village of Northern Daghestán, the young Tartars were assembled for their national exercise called "djigГѓ­tering;" that is, the horse-race accompanied by various trials of boldness and strength. Bouináki is situated upon two ledges of... more...